


All the Bright Places - Yuri!!! on Ice

by hiya_cather



Category: All the Bright Places - Jennifer Niven, Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Additional Tags to Come, And love, Angst, Bottom Yuuri, Character's Name Spelled as Viktor, Character's name spelled as Yuuri, Chubby Yuuri, Depressed Yuuri, I'm so sorry Viktor, Lots of it, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Out of Character, Short Yuuri, Tall Viktor, Top Viktor, Trans Yuuri, Trans male Yuuri, Viktor can't really find himself, Yuuri makes Viktor so happy, but fluff too, depressed viktor, fluffy Yuuri, it honestly takes awhile for viktor to f i n a l l y respect yuuri's gender pronouns, just be patient, sad viktor, sad yuuri, sex will come in the future, they travel, viktor has so many different personalities, viktor is sarcastic, yuuri is such a fluffy boy, yuuri saves viktor
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-11-17
Packaged: 2019-01-10 20:58:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,466
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12307671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hiya_cather/pseuds/hiya_cather
Summary: Viktor Nikiforov is fascinated by death. He constantly thinks of ways to kill himself, but every time some tiny little good thing happened, no matter how small, it stopped him.Yuuri Katsuki was the complete opposite. He thrived for the future, counting down the days till his graduation. Yuuri could then leave this old Michigan town and finally forget his growing grief of his sister's death.Yuuri and Viktor met on the edge of the bell tower, it was unclear of who saved who. When they pair up for a project to discover Michigan's breathtaking sights, both Yuuri and Viktor make more important discoveries: It's only with Yuuri that Viktor can be himself-- sweet, caring, and not a freak like every body says he is. And it's only with Viktor that Yuuri can forget to count the days away and start living them. But as Yuuri's world grows, Viktor's begins to shrink.





	1. Viktor

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gonna cry while writing some of this.

**_Viktor_ **

****I am awake again. Day 6.

* * *

 

_ Is today a good day to die? _

 

This is something I ask myself in the morning when I wake up. In sixth period when I’m trying to focus on what I’m writing and Mrs. Cobbler drags on and on. At night when I stare outside the window and can’t shut my fucking brain off. At the dining room table as I’m trying and trying to reach for the carrots, but god dammit, I can’t.

 

_ Is today the day? _

 

_ And if not today _ **_—_ ** _ when? _

 

I am asking myself this now as I’m standing on an extremely narrow edge five stories above ground. I feel so high up as if I’m apart of the sky. I glance down at the concrete covered in snow below and the world seems to shift right on its side in one swift movement. Maybe this time I could finally do it **—** let the crisp waves of ice brushing across earth’s surface carry me away. It’ll be like floating in a pool, drifting off until there’s no trace left.

 

I honestly don’t remember finding my way up here. Actually, I don’t really remember much of anything before Sunday, at least not anything so far this winter. This seems to happen all the time **—** the blacking out, the rousing up. I’m like that one magician or whoever it was. What was it again? Now you see me, now you don’t? I’m pretty sure. Anyway, that’s what I’m like. You see me, and then you don’t. You woulda thought I have gotten used to it, but this time it was so bad. So bad to the point where I had missed  _ the holidays _ , which meant Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years. The only thing that was really different this time around was that I felt so…  _ dead _ . Deader than usual. Which is kinda weird since, heh, I’m like some suicidal-freak-with-no-certain-persona. That sounds about right. I was awake of course, but it was like I was completely empty and hollow inside, like someone had totally eaten my insides. That’s fucking cool. Imagine that. Some monster who’d eat my insides. I wonder what kind. I’m getting off track, sorry. This is day six, yes I count, of being awake again. My first week back at school since… since November 14th.

 

I blink open my eyes, the snow still there, white as ever, already covering up everybody's steps from a second before. I am inside of the bell tower of my town’s high school, standing on top of a ledge that only seemed to be around four inches wide. This bell tower was extremely small. Someone with claustrophobia issues would not do well in here at all. Not at all. The tower only had a few feet of concrete floor on each side of the large ass bell itself, and this low to the ground metal, pole railing, which I climbed over to end up here. Every couple seconds or minute I knock the back of my heel against it to remind myself that, hey, not everything should be ignored and glanced at. 

 

My arms form a parallel line from the very tip of my left middle finger through my wrist, arm, shoulders, and all the way back to the right tip of my right middle finger. I look kinda like a conductor. The one that would lead the horrid sounding high school band through it’s half-time in the game, even if we’re losing fifty-three to nothing. “Ladies and man-ladies,” I yell, “I would love to invite you to my death, even if you’re already here!” You might have expected me to say “life,” since I just woke from the Asleep and all, but it’s only when I’m not in the Asleep that I ask myself that same question:  _ Is today a good to die? _

 

I am practically screaming at the top of my lungs, trying to be some King of the crazy and loud snow falling. Jesus, this fucking snow was so damn loud. Which is really odd since snow.. Snow is supposed to be quiet and left without a trace. I almost lose my balance since I’m throwing my arms all over the place. I  hold on to that neglected, sad railing, enjoying the fact that no one has seemed to notice, because honestly, who wants to be known as “The Freak who Killed Thyself Right After They Looked Like a Scared Little Bitch?” 

 

“I, Viktor Nikiforov, will only allow my belongings to go to Chris Giacometti, Mila Babicheva, and my brothers. Everyone else, uhh… can go to fucking hell!~” I sound like some crazy, insane, sarcastic fucker. Which I really am starting to think I am.

 

The bell had rung for class to begin, but still some classmates were horsing around and slowly walking about on that snow covered concrete, creating boot marks that disappeared as soon as they were seen. It’s the first week of second semester of our senior year, yet they’re already acting as if they were already out of this hell hole. 

 

One of the seniors glances up at me, and I think,  _ did he hear me? _ But, no, he didn’t. He tilted his head to the side and pointed up at the sky. At first I thought he was pointing at me, but then I realize he was pointing at a girl. She was a few feet away from me and on the other ledge, short black hair waving about in this crazy snow. Did the snow pick up or something? It felt stronger than before. Even though it’s January here, which is fucking freezing, she was wearing a white, flowing skirt with tight, black, fishnet tights, a pair of white snow boots in her hand, and she was staring either at the snow or her feet. It was really hard to tell. She seemed frozen in place, like the snow around us had really, really frozen her in place. 

 

In my normal voice and not my “crazy, insane, sarcastic fucker,” voice I say, “Looking at the ground is the last thing you want to do. Look ahead and feel like you’re the queen of winter. It’s pretty fun.”

She slowly turned and I realize I know this girl. I’ve seen her in the hallways, right? I can’t really help myself from adding a little sarcastic comment, because hey, that’s my personality right now. “Do ya come here often, lil miss? This is the kinda spot I hang around and I don’t believe I’ve ever seen your face around here.”

 

She doesn’t seem agitated at all… as if she’s been through this kind of shit before. All she does is blink from behind her round ass glasses that rest against her chubby, freckled, and rosy little cheeks, along with her button nose. She takes in a shaky breath and tries to step back, but all she ends up doing is bumping into that railing that seems to get all the needed attention it wants now. The girl teeters a bit from the sudden intrusion, but as soon as I saw the rising panic in her face, I quickly spoke up. “I honestly have no idea what brings you up here and that’s not really my business, but doesn’t the town look prettier up here? The people look nicer and even the most meanest of them look kind… except for Yuri Plisetsky and Jean-Jacques Leroy and whoever else you hang out with.”

 

Her name is clearly Japanese sounding, but I completely forgot what it was. Now that I look at her, I’m starting to realize that, hey, this is the transgender kid, isn’t it? Isn’t she secretly wanting to be a he? That’s the current rumor that was going around the town anyway. But who believes rumors. I certainly don’t, but for some reason, I wonder if I should start gendering her as a him. ‘He’ is super popular **—** one of those girls that you would never think of being on top of some five story high building, ready to jump off. Anyway, behind her large glasses she’s actually pretty adorable. She has large brown eyes that remind you of chocolate with the perfect amount of that sweet, delicious caramel inside. Her hair seems to cup her chubby cheeks, the black strands curling at the end and forming a bob. Her bangs run across her forehead and dip into the beginning of her glasses. The face she has is extremely round, but that was normal since she was extremely chubby. She seemed to be short to the ground, which reminds me of a plump little pumpkin. She seemed like the kind of girl who dates guys like Phichit Chulanont, sweet and nice. But somehow, she was in the wrong crowd. She sat with Yuri Plisetsky every day at lunch and Yuri… Yuri wasn’t very… nice. Now that I think of it, isn’t her name Yuuri as well?

 

“But… we aren’t here for the view, at least if you’re like me. Aren’t you Yuuri? The transgender kid?”

 

She blinks a bit, clearly not happy that she.. Or he, was labeled as the “transgender kid.” She doesn’t say anymore, so I guess I’m just going to take that as a yes.

 

“Viktor Nikiforov. We had a class together last year, didn’t we? Pre-cal? Maybe it wasn’t that. I don’t really remember much either, so that’s okay.”

 

Only another blink in response.

 

“I really fucking hate math and anything to do with it, but that is definitely not the reason I’m up here. I’m not really into the whole ‘suiciding over a school subject’ idea, ya hear me? No offense if that’s why you’re up here, though. You’re probably wayyyy better at math than I am. You seem like the kind of kiddo who’d be in honors. Really smart. But everyone’s good at math compared to me. I fucking suck. I’m amazing in other things though, just not math. I’m a specialist at art, sex, and constantly making my dad disappointed, to name a few. Also, apparently scientists have approved it, you’ll never use it in the real world. Math, I mean. Not using sex in the real world would really fricken suck.”

 

I keep rambling on, but I’m really running out of ideas to say and speak about. Besides, I really need to take a fucking piss, so my words aren’t the only thing twitching about. ( _ By the way, note to self: Take a fucking piss before you try to kill yourself, you idiot.) _ The snow seems to be getting heavier and worse and I’m pretty scared that it’s going to turn into a snow storm. Hah, I’m scared of a snow storm, but not death itself. I really am pretty fucking odd. No wonder I’m a freak.

 

“The snow seems to be getting heavier and worse,” I exclaim, as if she’s blind. Which she is pretty much if you take off her glasses. “So if we did try to kill ourselves right now, the snow would make the blood pretty obvious. Just like period blood on white ass underwear. I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to be completely blue and have red, melted snow on me at my funeral.” 

 

She is shaking and shivering at this point and I can’t really tell which, but it doesn’t matter since I’m slowly inching my way towards her, hoping I don’t fall into the snow because I honestly don’t want to have a horrid funeral and red snow on the ground. “I’ve made it clear that I want a cremation for my funeral, but my mom doesn’t listen or believe it.” My dad on the other hand would do whatever the hell she says so he won’t upset her like he does all the time, besides,  _ You’re way too young to think about cremations and funerals. You know, your Grandma Nikiforov ended up living till she was ninety-eight. So, we have no interest in speaking about this right now, Viktor, don’t be a brat and upset your mother. _

 

“Sooooo, I believe that means it’ll be a pretty open coffin for me. So, if I jump, it definitely won’t be pretty. And honestly, I really like my face like this, intact. Two eyes, one nose, one mouth, a full set of pearly white teeth, which, if I’m to be even  _ more _ honest, is one of my best features.” I throw her a fake smile so she can see what I mean. Everything where it should stay and always stay, on the outside, anyway.”

 

She doesn’t speak at all, so I inch even closer to her and try to keep the conversation up. “I’d also feel super bad for the janitor. What a shitty job to deal with cleaning up  _ me. _ The freak. Blegh, gross.”

 

But I’m interrupted from my pretty damn good conversation starters, at least I think, from a voice shouting from down below. “Yuuri? Is that Yuuri… up there!?”

 

“Oh God.” So she does speak, but I can barely hear it. At least she isn’t mute. “OhGod, ohGod, ohGod…!” The snow catches into her dark hair and sticks to her already white skirt.

 

Everybody’s buzzing about on the ground, already spreading new rumors about Yuuri and why she’s up on the bell tower ledge. But then I shout, “Don’t save me! I’m not worth it! You’ll end up killing yourself!” Then I whisper to her, as quiet yet as loud as I can be over this crazy snowstorm, “Here’s what we should do. Right now.” I explain the plan to her and she nods and almost loses her balance.

“Don’t nod, you’ll end up actually killing yourself. I’ll count you off for the plan, okay? On three.”

 

She did the exact plan, throwing her boots in the direction of the bell and they fall into the bell tower’s floor.

 

“One.”

 

“Two.”

 

“Three.”

 

I pull her over from the ledge and carefully onto the ground of the bell tower, and now I’m the only one left out on the ledge. But suddenly I’m staring at the ground, thinking it over again. I look at the snow and imagine myself lying there, surrounded in red snow.

 

_ I could just jump off. It would be over like the snap of a finger. No more “Nikiforov Freak.” No more pain. No more… anything, _

 

A soft voice interrupts my thoughts and I realize it’s Yuuri.  _ Yuuri _ . She’s still here. “Viktor, c-come up and over the rail… please don’t actually kill yourself.” 

 

And I come over the rail.


	2. Announcement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hi

hello my dudes

this fic is on a huge hiatus like i have no motivation to write currently and i'm super busy with winter softball, birthday coming up, thanksgiving, christmas, etc. sooo

have a good thanksgiving/christmas! I might be back after christmas :)


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